Red World Trilogy

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Red World Trilogy Page 70

by V. A. Jeffrey


  They were so busy trying find a way to make sense of what happened that they nearly missed the scorpion digging itself up through the dirt floor in the kitchen. Zigal turned, hearing what sounded like scurrying mice and screamed. They all leapt to their feet again.

  "It is coming up through the floor!" She pointed. She grabbed a large, fired clay pot and pounded at it repeatedly. She broke one of its claws but the second scorpion climbed over the first and scrambled to get out of the hole. Shukala found a spear leaning against the wall in the corner. This he took and jammed it into the hole repeatedly until there was no more movement. Rapheth searched all over the floor and out in the outer rooms.

  "But there were three." He said suspiciously. "I see only two." Suddenly there was a golden whir from around the corner. The largest scorpion had been hiding in the house as the others dug through the floor. It ran and jumped upon Rapheth and before anyone could move or defend him, injected its poison stinger into his neck.

  "Ah! Aich!!" He fell over and went into convulsions. He heard Zigal screaming and the others shouting incomprehensibly. Everything went into a blind, white blur of panic and confusion.

  "My boy! My boy!" He heard Zigal wail in utter desperation. "My child! I have failed!" He heard his friends yelling in shock but their voices eventually receded into distant, dream-like sounds.

  Parso heaved the cauldron up over his head in a rare show of beastly strength and threw it against the large scorpion which had finally unlatched itself from Rapheth, and crushed it.

  Rapheth, however, had fallen and they were unable to revive him.

  . . .

  When he awoke there was jubilation in the house. Zigal's face was pinched and wet from weeping.

  "My boy, my boy! My lovely child. You live!" Then she fainted. Parso attended to her. Shukala and Ephron were elated.

  "We thought you were dead!" Cried Shukala.

  "How do you feel? That thing tried to kill you." Said Ephron. Rapheth felt an odd sensation as if he were not wholly in his own body, as if he had drunk too much wine and taken too much alu herb. He tried to orient himself. He touched his neck where the poison had been injected.

  "I feel fine. Well, strange. . .drunk."

  "I don't understand. Why would someone do this? Why would someone want to kill us?" Asked Shukala. Rapheth turned and tried to sit up. His friends helped him, propping him up on pillows. He breathed lightly, tired but he knew why. He felt something working its way, coursing through him and it gave him the feeling of euphoria.

  "No one is trying to kill you two. They are trying to kill me." His friends frowned.

  "What do you mean? Why?" Asked Ephron.

  "Who?" Asked Shukala.

  "The queen." There was dead silence.

  "Why would the queen want to kill you?" Asked Ephron.

  "I am not suppose to tell anyone but it is time you knew." Parso tried to interrupt but Rapheth was determined that they know the truth. He raised his hand at Parso for silence. His own foolishness had caused this and now his friends deserved answers.

  "We cannot hide this forever, Parso. They have to know at some point. They will know at some point. Now is the time." He turned to them. "We all know the prophecies. Change is coming. Things cannot remain the same. Zigal is not my real mother. Queen Taliat is my mother." They stared at him in shock.

  "Your eyes. They are bright as ambered fire now."

  "They are turning nearly red!" Said Ephron.

  "Something is working within me. The poison. That is what is doing this."

  "So. . .she is your mother?"

  "Yes. The queen's eyes I hear are like this as well."

  "But this is incredible!" Cried Ephron.

  "Oh yes! Do you remember what everyone was saying after the play? About him, Ephron? That he was the spitting image of the queen?"

  "Yes, but, people say things all of the time. People talk."

  "It is true. He is her son. He is the royal prince, the son of Taliat and Khalit." Said Zigal. Her voice was weak and ragged from stress and fatigue.

  "Whaa?" His friends exclaimed.

  "But why would she want to kill her own son?" Asked Ephron.

  "She wanted the throne for herself. Now she wants to become a god. She cannot do that when there is an heir that will inherit the throne. Especially a male heir. How can you rule forever when you have a son to take over the kingship? It suggests that you will have to die. And to even suggest the death of a ruling king or queen is treason." Said Zigal.

  "How is it that Rapheth is still alive?" Asked Ephron.

  "The poison is working through me. I can feel it. But it did not kill me."

  "Well we can see that." Said Shukala.

  "I believe it is because his mother has made herself immune to poisons and venoms. A practiced art of hers before she came to Hybron. Ascerbinum and giki-serpent venom featured prominently in her daily draughts that she would have prepared but she has myriads of others. I have no doubt through the dark arts of her, her astrologers and priestesses that she found a way to be immune to these things. As I think on it, I think she has somehow passed this immunity on to her unborn child." Zigal said, staring at him in new wonder.

  "Or perhaps there is another reason. Perhaps the intent was not to kill." It was Parso, at the doorway. "Moments ago I received a message from Rhajit, of all people, by falcon. It bodes ill. The scorpions were sent to subdue him. The queen's huntsmen will be here looking for the boy, supposing him to be unconscious. They have been dispatched to kill those harboring the boy before taking him back with them. We must leave at once!"

  In a mad scramble they took all they could in baskets and sacks and followed Zigal with oil lamps to the unnamed the city, and from there they made their way eventually to a small village south of Rhuctium the next morning and bought mules. From this village they traveled to Hevan and here Zigal stayed and join the Aishanna-La community there. Parso, fearing pursuers, took the boy and continued farther south to Haiga, passing through the forest. Ephron and Shukala insisted upon going with Parso and Rapheth and told Zigal to let their families know that they traveled with Rapheth and Parso. Then they left with them. When they arrived in the riparian city they bought passage on a ship.

  The day was hot and reeking with heat but the sun was bright and the sky red and beautiful as destiny threw them out of the arms of their homeland toward faraway, strange places. Rapheth was, for the first time in his life, frightened and still uncertain of the future and where his destiny was truly headed.

  "Where from here?" He asked Parso despondently. Parso seemed less afraid.

  "I have traveled many places and seen many things in this world. If you are what you are supposed to be, do not despair. This is a trial; a trial by fire. Fire can destroy utterly but what is left, if anything is left, will be strong and mighty as iron. This will determine if you are made of mighty stuff, my young friend."

  "But what about Ilim?"

  "Ilim is in God's hands. Do not worry for him any longer. Your own destiny now awaits. You must rise in fire or die trying. Do not think of it as a trial, though that is what it is." He paused. "Think of it as an adventure." He said resolutely. Shukala put his arm around Rapheth's shoulder.

  "I grabbed a copy of the Holy Aishanna and your new books from the library when we fled the house. That will strengthen you and all of us." He said. Ephron looked out across the grayish brown waters of the Zazor river.

  "Only in times like these can a man really prove what he is. Let us dream and not despair. Maybe we will prove up to the task. Let us think only of might and glory for God and for us. Or at least let us have fun and pretend it is only an adventure. You are the prophecy, Rapheth. I see that now and by being with you, we three are made great." Ephron said. Rapheth felt cheered, if only slightly.

  "We know the prophecies. You will come back. Like a king." Said Shukala.

  "Like a king. " He said. "I am glad you two came. I am glad." He looked at Parso who smiled. He watched as the la
nd he knew receded into the eastern horizon. And the four sailed the next day up the Zazor past where it intersected with the Mowret and then turned and sailed west.

  Chapter Forty

  The hosts of Teraht grew with each passing day they marched towards Hybron. Any and all farmers beyond the Egian border had already fled into the mountains or made their way down the Zazor river if they had rafts or boats. These fields were burned, few as they were. But he did not poison the wells he came upon. He gave a resigned sigh, grim but determined at the duty he had to now fulfill: to establish order and the rule of law. And root out undesirables and dangerous sects, bringing all under his ruling arm. First of all his niece, who had gone mad. He was not surprised. It was inevitable. A thin strain of madness had always run in the family. Such was the price for being touched with greatness. The Seht family lineage was godlike, in a way, but to actually try to sit in the heavens with them was too much. Demi-gods were still half mortal, after all. Things would have gone far better had his brother died when he was supposed to and allowed him to step in and take control. Now look at the mess he had to clean up! He'd always despised Tenan; selfish, greedy and corrupt Tenan, who would rather allow his daughter of high blood to be married to a luti usurping tyrant, who would rather that all which their forefathers had striven for descend into chaos after his death rather than allow his youngest brother to become head of the family.

  Inwardly, he feared what his niece was doing, hidden away from where his spies could not observe her. He'd heard frightening reports of her growing strange powers. He dismissed it openly but secretly he suspected that she'd really found some secret power that had not been discovered by any one else. The rumors about her were disquieting.

  Turning his thoughts outward, his heart swelled with pride to see more men joining the ranks, flocking to him, the myriads of conical helmets gleaming in the sunlight. Even the Gilphaeans had come, joining the hosts as mercenaries. His great flaming sword he held aloft had convinced the people that he, not some far away imaginary man from a foreign god, but he, was the prophetic Red King.

  "Here! The Red King comes!" He had new armor, leather and copper, fashioned and painted red to impress on all who saw him that there was no other Red King. He gently pulled the reins of his chariot. His giant black stallions snorted and tossed their heads proudly. They passed a group of dragon trees. Far ahead they could see the billowing smoke from the eternal fires escaping high into the ether. A sure sign that Jhis was corrupt. Bereft of glory, or blessings from any god. Especially their own and now He was allowing him, Teraht, to punish and if need be, destroy them. He made this victory easy and assured but Teraht was not completely cold. He would spare the city if they capitulated to him. If not, he had more than enough supplies to wait them out in a siege. He would deal with Taliat personally. It was unthinkable what she had done. A woman ruling! A travesty and look what it had come to? It was unnatural, wicked, even. And that Witch of Shima! He would deal with her as well. No nattering witch would be running around undermining anything once he was on the throne. One thing his niece had done right - she had done away with the mad prophet Ilim. He shivered inwardly.

  "Duglush."

  "Yes, sovereign?"

  "These savage sooth-sayers have been allowed to run amok long enough. When I get to the palace I want you to take men you know and trust and find this witch of Shima. I hear that they claim to have some star scepter. The only sacred grail in the Middle Kingdoms is the one I hold. Do you understand?"

  "Yes, my sovereign."

  "Find her and any who support her and execute her. Find any others like her who are speaking things other than what I approve. And only my astrologers and the priests from my temples must be allowed to prophecy."

  "So it shall be."

  They reached Jhis late the next night fall and set up the vast encampment at the western wall. The army campfires made the night seem as if it had sunken into the underworld.

  "Jhis, the black, stinking maw of the Middle World. Always grasping, always grabbing, trying to claw her way out of hell. This entire city was built upon greed and the vainglorious ambitions of generations of common men. It ought to be sunk into the ground."

  "It is even worse than Yilphaeus." Said his first tartan. Teraht laughed a harsh, short bark and stepped down from his chariot.

  "You can tell a Hybronian from all other barbarians. A small head with a drooping belly for all the grain they swallow." They all laughed.

  "A Hybronian who can read is an absurdity on legs." Said another tartan. More laughter.

  "I am ready to saw off legs, arms, feet, hands tomorrow!" Said Teraht.

  Teraht took up the erdu-horn, a great bone and iron horn to project his voice. He peered up at the Hybronian warriors on the wall. Would they make life easy upon themselves or would he have to give them the painful taste of severe correction? It would be decided now.

  "I am your king and lord. I am Teraht of the House of Seht, descended from the gods of night and servant of Nisrok, the one of the deep waters of the Mowret. Open your gate and allow my armies to pass through and you will be spared. Only bring out the serpent queen to me that I may punish her for her evils and I shall spare you. For if you do not, I will break your gates down and I will pass over and through this city like a roaring river, like the waters of the great river I will pass over and all you and yours will have to die by my hand. I will spit your children on poles and I will cast all your maidens and young men and old men and women into the eternal fires alive. I will feed your bodies to the dogs and the wild pigs. Limbs and upon limbs I will cast up and there will be nothing left but rivers of blood. I will poison your wells and your cisterns, I will siege you until there is no more for you to eat and what will you eat then?" He taunted. For a few moments there was silence. Then he spoke again, using a slightly different tactic.

  "Come and open the gate. Some of you are our brothers, Egian warriors. Who came down with the queen when she married King Khalit. Why should brothers fight amongst each other? Obey my voice and you will not be traitors, but remain my brothers."

  "We will not open the gate! You must come up against it!" Said the captain of the guard. The men on the wall were clearly in consternation. Teraht laughed heartlessly.

  "But what will you eat when we siege you out? For I well know that your food supplies have dwindled and they have been cut off from Egi altogether. Your horn of plenty, Zapulia, is not in league with you any longer. Open the gates and live or I will siege and starve you out and you will have to eat your own babes and children and then you must go mad and starve!" His warriors laughed and beat their skin drums - drums made from the skin of punished slaves and enemy warriors. He then took out his sword. It gleamed cold in the light of the torches and then it began to gleam bright at its sharpened edge and it threw off great flames.

  "Look! I am come! The Red King!" He shouted and the flames of the sword turned red. The flames reached the wall flying out like bats of fire and they engulfed one of the men on the wall, burning him. He cried in agony as he died and the warriors in the Egian army laughed.

  "Bring out the battering pole! Break it down!" He then instructed the slaves conscripted for military duty to begin digging to undermine the wall. They went some ways south and began their work, digging tunnels under the rock and dirt and sand, and they began ceaselessly from that moment on, taking turns in relays.

  . . .

  The great day of the dead sun was only one week away. It was too early but she had to move now. She now wished she'd demanded her generals meet him on the battlefield, or forced a decision before he had the opportunity to reach the city but it was too late. The city was seven days into a siege but when he broke through, if he broke through, or stayed encamped around the city, when she emerged she would pluck him from his chariot personally and eat him alive and she would crush his armies in the eternal fires. No army could face a wrathful goddess. She took up her silver chialis and drank her poison and vemon elixir for the last t
ime. Her skin was translucent and shone with an iridescence of a scaled insect or reptile. She was primed and ready at least if other things were not quite perfect but her mind tormented her. The girl had been taken from her, the child she needed. Her son had escaped her. Priceless blood that slipped through her fingers. She gave the order to have the altar prepared. Then she went through with her sacred ministrations, starting with a bath perfumed with oils of balsam, violet and kata flower oils and the richest olive oil and rarest venom. Her long luxurious hair was washed and oiled. She roundly ignored what was going on at the gate, only her order to hold the wall went out. If anyone came back to complain to her of how they could not do this or that, they would face immediate execution. She had no patience for mortal woes. Tonight she would become immortal.

  Queen Taliat rose from her bath, steamed and cleansed. Water droplets pooled and oozed from her pores, the scaly skin glistening. She took a long, deep breath of the moist air, and her body tingled with a cooling sensation that seemed to grow as her transformation advanced; as if she could breath through her skin. It excited her. She thought of the serpent. Her poor serpent, her pet was gone and she had no idea where Vala had gone to. Her pet would find her, to sit by her side. Her throne would be changed from the red throne to the moon throne. Ivory and moonstone of silver and pearl it would be made of. Setimet dried her hair and oiled it with pure kata oil and olive oil. She combed and plaited it and wrapped the long thick braids in a swept up style, pearl-studded pins were pinned in the luxurious coiled plaits. Her diamond pins and silver and gold pins were then pinned in her plaits. Her skin was dried and oiled and massaged and she was clothed in her specially made ceremonial gown. It was like her wedding gown, bright white and silver with pearls sewn in it with a wide belt of pearl and silk wrapped around her waist and tied down in folded flaps at the back and it was sleeveless. A wide choker of silver and pearl was set around her neck and her diadem of silver with a single pure large jade stone in the middle was placed upon her head. She wore her silver slippers, silver and pearl earrings and her silver and gold step chains were placed around her legs and ankles. A sedan chair was brought in by Bakku and her other male servants and Setimet laced the silver and white silk robe upon the queen. Setimet was crying. The queen gazed at Setimet, her eyes flickering over her servant dispassionately.

 

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